Five Kisses
by secondmezzanine
Summary: Four times Barney kissed Robin, and one time he didn't. Follows regular episodes, but somewhat AU.


**Disclaimer**: Sadly, I own nothing.  
**Spoilers**: Minor plot spoilers through "Shelter Island."  
**Summary**: Four times Barney kissed Robin, and one time he didn't.

**Author's Notes**: There was a dearth of kissing in my last fic, so this should remedy that. Kissing abound.

**I. Zip, Zip, Zip  
**

He's lost track of how many rounds of Battleship they've played. After the initial awkwardness of his propositioning her (and the subsequent revelation of her crush on Ted) had worn off, Barney had found himself genuinely having a good time with Robin again. _Actually, scratch that,_ he thinks as he fiddles with the ships on his game. _I think even the awkwardness with her was a good time_. So maybe she hadn't been throwing herself at him after all—no big deal. Chemistry is chemistry, and she can't deny that.

"Crap," Robin's saying in mock-misery. "You sunk my battleship. Damn you."

"Victoryyyy!" he announces in a booming voice. "Your cheating is no match for my hardcore skillz. And that's skillz with a Z." He pounds his chest in an overly-masculine fashion.

Robin's already giggly, so she laughs easily at the lame joke, doubles over and clutches her battleships in mock-agony. He's still watching her, smiling too hard at her, and the image of Ted smiling at her in the same stupid fashion a hundred times over flashes across his mind. He winces, and doesn't know if it's because he knows despite the fact that Ted gave him "permission" to go for it with Robin, the guy's way too romantic to really have meant it, or because Barney himself hasn't felt this kind of twinge since Shannon. And yet he's still grinning like a fool at this girl in front of him. _Time to go_. His reflexes are kicking in.

"Do you want to play ag—" Robin's saying just as he says, "Sooo, I should probably—"

"Oh—oh, right," Robin says. He tries not to notice the flash of disappointment on her face. "Yeah, you should go. It's late." She walks him to the door, and even though he knows it should feel awkward, it doesn't. "So this was fun. Really. We should have a rematch sometime. I mean, if you can keep your word about not telling Ted that I… you know…"

He begins putting on his coat. "Right. Ha. And if you don't tell him you almost let yourself be seduced by me."

Robin blushes, but makes an incredulous sound. "Um, that is _not_ what happened. No offense, Barney, but you don't have what it takes to seduce me. I've got better defenses than that, thanks."

Barney pauses as he straightens his collar and reaches for the doorknob. "Oh, _really_."

She folds her arms in defiance and grins. "Uh, yeah. Pretty sure."

It sounds like a challenge if he's ever heard one. The moment is hovering there between them, him with his hand on the door, her with a little smile that, with each passing second, is beginning to look a little tentative. He knows he shouldn't, but—

"Okay, Scherbatsky. You asked for it."

The smile drops off her face and her eyes widen. He takes a step forward, and as he knows she will, she steps back. He gently pushes her into the wall next to the door, and she seems too surprised to fight it. He leans in to her, pressing one hand to her trembling waist and one to the wall, and whispers into her ear, "Chemistry is chemistry, Robin."

She tries to respond, but all that escapes her mouth is a squeak. He stifles it with his mouth, kisses her gently until her lips part slightly, and then moves more firmly against her until he's certain she feels the heat between them. He tugs the waistband of her shirt until she instinctively leans into him, just an inch. He opens his eyes and sees hers are closed. When he breaks the kiss, he sees her hands pressed back, clutching the wall as if she's somehow going to fall down even though he's right here. "Hey," he says, his voice low.

Her eyes fly open, like she's just realizing they're no longer kissing. "Mmpph?" she manages.

"Your defenses need some work, Scherbatsky." He lets her go and slips through the door, flashing her a smirk as it closes.

**II. Stuff**

At MacLaren's, Robin sits on the stool next to Barney, leaning in to Ted, who's leaning back on the bar with the same dopey grin that's been on his face since the words "_We're moving in together" _had been thrown at them all. "Let's get a cappuccino maker," Ted's saying. "And a banana tree. Things adults have."

"His and hers terrycloth robes," Robin suggests, grinning back at Ted just as stupidly. "Oh! And a little basket for the TV remote control. Death to he who loses it."

Barney takes a swig of his beer and rolls his eyes. He doesn't understand these couples games. Nor does he understand how Robin, the least coupley person he knows, is buying into the act.

"I can't believe you gave up the dogs," Ted says, his voice serious now. He picks up Robin's hand and kisses it. "Let's go visit them next weekend."

Robin's half-smiling at Ted and before she can say something like _awwww_, or _oh, sweetie_, or something equally repulsive, Barney coughs loudly. "Listen, could you guys take this somewhere else? You're giving me the heaves." He rubs his neck, frustrated. "And that blonde over there was just about to come over."

Robin turns to look for the blonde, like she's eager to give an opinion, which normally Barney would welcome. For some reason, tonight he's annoyed by the thought.

Ted slaps Barney's shoulder, chum-like, and finishes off his beer. "I'm gonna head upstairs and start packing. You coming, Robin?"

She holds up her beer to indicate she's going to finish up, and Ted kisses her goodbye.

"Dude, you're going up to the apartment, not off to war," Barney groans, and Ted laughs as he slaps a twenty on the bar and heads out. Barney looks at Robin out of the corner of his eye. "I can't believe you caved," he says.

"Caved?"

"The dogs," he says. "You love those damn things. In fact, they're the only living things I've ever heard you publicly, _voluntarily _declare affection for."

She shrugs, her smile gone now. "Yeah, well. Lily's right. They'll be happier on a farm upstate than in my cramped apartment in Brooklyn." She rests her elbows on the bar, chin in hand.

"Still. They were kind of part of your cool factor." He shrugs, then tosses a head bob in the direction of the increasingly-intoxicated blonde chick across the bar.

Robin looks at him, chin still in hand. "Oh really? I didn't take you for a dog person, Barney. I mean, other than the basic you're-a-total-dog insults I've heard women say to you."

"Har, har."

"Maybe you should adopt one. You know, give you something to live for other than your suits and random one night stands," Robin teases.

"Uh, I think not." He takes another drink. "That's the last thing I need. When a woman comes to my apartment, I don't need any distractions, if you know what I mean."

"Well, I just know it's really nice to have someone to come home to. I'm going to miss that for sure." She sighs.

Barney shoots her an odd look. "Aren't we forgetting something?"

Confusion flashes over her features for a moment, and then her eyes widen. "Well, except for Ted. He'll be there," she rushes to say. "I mean, obviously I meant—"

He laughs at her, shakes his head. "Whatever. Those dogs were your babies and you gave it up for _couplehood_. Ehh."

"You want to see something?" Robin whispers conspiratorially. She reaches for her purse.

He turns on the stool so he's facing her. "Ooh. Something dirty?"

She rolls her eyes at him, and pulls her billfold out. "Sometimes I worry that I'm going to get hit by the subway or something and the medics are going to pull this out and think I'm the saddest person ever."

She hands the billfold to him, and Barney opens it to see that the little photos pages are filled with pictures of her dogs. He suppresses a laugh as he hands it back to her. "Nice. But probably not as sad as Ted. I'm pretty sure he's already emptied his wallet out to make room for the inevitable pictures of his kids."

Their gazes meet as he hands it back to her and they both avert their eyes, as if the subject of Ted and kids is too awkward. Anyway," he says, feeling like he's put his foot in his mouth, "I've got a project to get to." He stands and straightens his tie, eyeing the girl across the room.

"Right," she smiles. "See ya."

Twenty minutes later, he's helping the blonde—Becky or Bonnie or something—into a cab when he spies Robin standing out on the sidewalk under a streetlamp, smoking a cigarette. "Hold the cab for a second—I'll be right back," he tells the girl, and she looks slightly impatient, but he closes the door on her and jogs over to Robin.

She's looking at the pictures in her billfold again, which she quickly shoves back into her purse when she sees him coming. "Here, you want?" She offers him the cigarette, and he examines her as he takes a drag of it. "It's my last hurrah and all," she jokes.

Barney grins and hands the cigarette back. "Listen," he says. "Make sure Ted keeps his promise. About going to visit the dogs."

She laughs and nods, dropping the butt on the ground and stepping on it. "Yeah. It's fine. It'll be fine." She shrugs.

He hesitates for a moment, glancing back at the waiting cab, and puts his arm around her shoulders, giving her a friendly squeeze. It's casual, the way they're leaning in to each other, and he knows this is how it's going to be now; _they're moving in_, and it'll be fine, as long as she doesn't give up any more of herself.

"Thanks, Barney." Robin shoves her hands in her pockets and smiles up at him, nodding as if to reassure him of her certainty that everything's going to be okay, even without her dogs.

He leans down and gives her a quick kiss just above her ear. Her hair smells like something flowery, even though the haze of cigarette smoke is still hanging in the air, so he quickly gives her another friendly squeeze—and a bro-like shoulder pat for good measure— and releases her without a word. When he's in the cab again, driving away, he watches her step on the cigarette butt again. She slowly tucks her hair behind her ear.

**III. How I Met Everyone Else  
**

He sits next to her in the booth for the rest of the night, making fun of World of Warcraft (until Ted finally leaves in a huff) and Blah-Blah and the fact that Marshall and Lily were really so concerned that Lily might have kissed someone besides Marshall over a _decade _ago. The conversation turns back to Blah-Blah and the Hot-Crazy Scale and on to bad roommate stories and whether Carl really is a vampire and where Robin got that green dress (rather than listen to Lily go on about fashion, he takes this opportunity to hit on the new MacLaren's waitress, but his heart is only half in it, so he returns to the booth).

And through all of it he's thinking, _sixteen no's. Really._

"Rhinoceros," Marshall interrupts Barney's thoughts, and he and Lily are out the door a moment later, leaving Barney and Robin alone on the same side of the booth.

They sit there silently for a moment. It's certainly not the first time they've been last to leave; in fact, since Robin's been single again, it's been happening more often. She claims it's because she's on "anchorwoman time" so she's used to being able to sleep until noon, but he thinks they both know they just like each other's company. Tonight, though, he doesn't feel like sitting around telling her about his latest conquests or hearing her horror stories about life at Metro News One. It was sort of funny at first, but the more he thinks about it, the less amusing the sixteen—_sixteen_!—no's she had used to clarify that they aren't a couple becomes.

He taps his drink on the table and can feel her looking at him nervously. "Hey, can I buy you another one?" she says, and her tone indicates it's a peace offering.

"Nah," he says, getting up. "I think I'm gonna head out. It's late."

"Oh, okay, I'll walk with you," Robin says, hurriedly following him.

Barney bites his lip, wishing she'd get the hint that he's trying to escape her, but says nothing. On the street, he walks quickly but she's still trying to catch up to him. "Yeah, I was actually going to get a cab," he says, hailing the one that's passing. "So, later, Scherbatsky." He knows he's being a jerk.

"Okay, we can share," she insists.

He sighs and opens the door for her. "Fine." In the cab, he tells the driver his address and pulls out his cell phone, pretending to text someone.

"Come on, Barney," she says. "Don't be mad."

"I'm not mad. What?" He feigns indifferent confusion and goes back to his phone.

Robin makes a frustrated sound. "Look, I'm sorry. I realize I got a little carried away in there when what's-her-name thought we were… you know. I shouldn't have said it… you know… sixteen times, maybe. But come on, it was kind of ridiculous, wasn't it? I mean, just because we…"

"Haven't we had this conversation before?"

"What?"

Barney drops his phone back into his pocket and turns to her. "This conversation. When we first became friends. We get along, we're both okay with the casual thing, just—the idea of us, it makes sense. It's not that crazy. Oh, relax," he says. "I'm not propositioning you. I'm just saying—we're friends, right?"

It's dark in the cab, but he thinks she's blushing a little with embarrassment. "Yeah, we're friends. Good friends. The best of friends, some might say," she admits with a forced laugh. She reaches over and nudges his arm, trying to lighten the mood.

He looks out the window. "Do me a favor and try not to always think of me as _that guy_. I know you think of me as your sleazy friend Barney, no morals, no merits, whatever. But I've got other qualities, you know. Awesomeness, for one."

Robin pulls her arm back. "I know. I'm sorry." She's quiet for a minute. "I don't always think of you like that, you know." Barney's still staring out the window, and she doesn't know whether to keep talking. She's sure the driver's enjoying this little scene. "You really have been a good friend to me." He wishes she would stop talking so they can let this go. "I mean, maybe that's why it I reacted so strongly, you know? It's just not like that with us. We're friends."

Barney can't help himself. He scoffs a little.

"What?" Robin exclaims. "We are, aren't we? We're Robin and Barney, we're—"

He finally looks at her again. "Robin, please shut up."

She does, albeit looking a little hurt.

They ride in silence for almost fifteen minutes, looking out the windows at Manhattan after dark, before either one speaks again. He doesn't know why he's angry with her; he certainly wasn't this upset at the bar, and he can't pinpoint exactly what she said in the cab that burned him, but he feels anxious and sick, or something akin to disappointment. Like he's been holding on to something until now. He can tell she wants to say something, but she doesn't, just sits there stiffly until the cab arrives at his corner.

He pauses for another moment before exiting, opens his mouth to speak, thinks better of it, and reaches for the door handle.

"Barney, wait, can we please not leave it like this?" Maybe he's imagining things, but her voice sounds tinged with desperation. "Come on, you really are my best friend, and I don't…"

That's it. He has to shut her up, so he takes her face in his hands and kisses her hard.

He doesn't care that the cabbie is probably gawking at them in the rear-view mirror. He doesn't know what Robin's thinking, but at least she isn't _talking_, so he deepens the kiss, moves his hand down to her shoulders to pull her closer, and wonders what the hell he's doing. If this is just another _I'll prove it to you_ kiss, like the night they played Battleship and never spoke of it again, well, fine. He can deal with denial. If it's something more, well—the thought ends there. Those thoughts lead to no-man's land.

At any rate, he stops thinking then, because suddenly she's kissing him back, and she's making little sounds and her hands are on him and he's pretty sure neither of them know what's going on anymore, but nothing matters because this is _it_.

Which is precisely why he stops.

Her mouth follows his for a moment when he pulls away, until she catches herself and snatches her hands back and they look at each other, breathing hard. Barney searches for something to say that will fix everything, put it back to how it was before. "Sorry," he says lamely.

"Wh—what?" she chokes out.

"I mean," he says, and clears his throat. "I mean, see? Come on, Scherbatsky, you still haven't built up those defenses, eh?

"What?" she repeats, softer this time.

"I told you," he says, grasping blindly for something, anything to say. "It's not ridiculous. It's chemistry. So, you know, we—you— don't need to stress about it if some crazy girlfriend of Ted's picks up on it. That's all it is. That's… all. Oh, I almost forgot to pay." He grabs the first bills he sees in his wallet, never mind that they're fifties, and smacks into the door in his hurry to exit the car. "That should cover your fare home. So, uh…" He's rambling, he knows, but she's still just staring at him with her mouth hanging open. So he reaches over and jostles her shoulder in a brotherly fashion. "So let's just drop it, okay? See ya."

When he gets upstairs to his apartment, he pours the biggest whiskey he's ever had. And vows never to kiss Robin Scherbatsky again.

**IV. Sandcastles in the Sand**

He isn't going to kiss her. Robin can tell. He's been a perfect gentleman ever since that night, over five months ago, when he knocked her breath away and kissed her like he meant it and then left her sitting there alone in a cab, grasping for oxygen or clarity. In fact, it's been a little hard to breathe around him ever since. She doesn't know if it's better or worse that he kept his promise to _drop it_ and hasn't given her so much as a lingering glance, even in the moments when they've found themselves alone. It really is as if it never happened.

So she's been trying to tell herself that very thing. It never happened. Forget it.

But the fact that they're on their fifth viewing of "Sandcastles in the Sand" and they keep getting closer to each other on the couch and he keeps smiling at her and once again she feels like the room is running out of oxygen doesn't change the fact that he isn't going to kiss her, and she's annoyed about it.

He's pointing at the TV and saying something about Alan Thicke and all she can think is that his eyelashes are so long. She's starting to get a little frustrated. When was Barney the Rake going to appear again, to take advantage of her in her vulnerability? For god's sake, even back at the bar when she'd been crying over Simon, the most ridiculous man she'd ever dated, Barney hadn't done anything more rakish than put his arm around her. He hadn't even tried to get her drunk. The least the man could do was be consistent and kiss her senseless when she needed it (even if she hadn't always known at the time that she needed it).

The video ends and goes to a black screen for the fifth time and Barney's still talking. "…how many times you had to film the fight with Simon, because the realism was positively undeniable…" He's laughing again when he turns to look at her.

He's not going to kiss her.

So she kisses him. It's tentative at first, because although she's usually pretty brave with men, this is _Barney_, and she doesn't know what's supposed to happen now. She kisses him once, softly, and waits for him to react.

He doesn't. Just sits there, frozen.

So she kisses him again, a bit more emphatically this time. When he still doesn't react, she begins to feel like an idiot. Finally, he moves away slightly, saying, "Listen, Robin… I don't think…"

"Oh my god," she says. She puts her head in her hands, humiliated.

"Listen," Barney repeats. "I'd really like to… _god_, I mean I'd really like to, but…"

She hates him a little bit, suddenly, because why does he have to choose _tonight_ of all nights to be noble? Why is she always the one left feeling dumbstruck and stupid? She realizes he's getting up to leave, so she does the first thing that comes to mind—reaches out and grabs his tie. Barney promptly sits back down. "Why do you always do that?" Robin says. "You always get to be the one to walk out the door or hop in the cab or whatever. Maybe—maybe I should get to be the one who acts first for once. And then I can be the one to pretend like it never happened."

Suddenly Barney's looking at her like maybe he is going to kiss her after all, so she beats him to the punch. They don't break apart until she's pulling his tie over his head, and she just has time to whisper, "Maybe you need to work on your own defenses, Stinson," before he makes her forget everything.

**V. Shelter Island**

She keeps her word. This time, Robin is the one to pretend like it never happened. And Barney, as he told Lily (which was probably a mistake, given all the _looks_ Lily has been throwing him ever since), caught feelings. He caught feelings bad.

And, okay, he thinks. Maybe if he's honest with himself he was having feelings for her a long time ago, before she broke up with Ted or got together with Ted or just had a little crush on Ted. Since the night of laser tag and Battleship and that first kiss, maybe.

Or maybe he's just remembering incorrectly, because whenever he thinks of Robin now, he gets that horrible mashed-up feeling inside and feels like he's going to throw up. (He still can't believe anyone would _choose_ to feel this way all the time.)

But regardless of his pathetic descent into attachment, she's still feigning ignorance of their little foray into intimacy. And they're friends, but it's all pretty tame in comparison, no stolen kisses in the backs of taxis or Battleship marathons or friendly-bordering-on-something-more comforting. They hang out. That's that.

He had come over to the apartment to see if Ted wanted to go down to MacLaren's for a drink (the poor guy was still smarting over being left at the altar and all), but he'd found Robin instead, sitting on the couch in her pajamas playing Wii by herself. Lily and Marshall were nowhere to be found.

"Ted's not here," Robin tells him, avoiding his eyes. She's playing an intensely heated game on the Wii, which he's never seen her do before despite her competitive streak. He's not surprised, though. She's been walking around looking pathetic ever since she quit her job in Japan and hasn't had any luck finding an apartment back in New York.

"So," Barney says, sitting in the chair rather than next to her on the couch. "How's Jane?"

"Oh, really fantastic," she says in monotone. "I haven't had a roommate since I was in college, but I forgot all about how amazing sharing tiny studio with a pothead and her skeezy boyfriend can be. _Gotcha_," she spouts at the game on screen.

Barney can't help feeling a little hurt. He knows she can't stay here in the apartment; Lily, Marshall, and Ted already fill up the place. But she never even considered asking if she could stay with him before running out and finding a temporary roommate she only kind-of knew from Metro News One. "Look, why don't you just come stay at my place for awhile?" he says, swallowing his pride.

She barely glances at him. "No thanks."

"Oh, so you'd rather live in one room with a stoner, keeping all your extra stuff in storage, than have to spend time in a bachelor pad?"

Robin laughs in spite of herself. "Who even calls it a bachelor pad?" She continues with the game for a moment. "Anyway, it's not the place. It's the company."

He lets that sink in and finally says "_Ouch,_" in a half-hearted voice. "God, that's worse than sixteen no's."

It's the first time either of them have mentioned that since it happened—they've gotten pretty good at avoidance in general, in fact—and Robin flushes. "That's not what I meant, Barney." She pauses the game and finally looks at him. "Not you. I meant the other company."

"What other company?"

"The _girls_, Barney," she says, rolling her eyes. "Lily told me what it was like to live with you. The endless parade of conquests, all that. It was probably a good thing you finally kicked her out, because I think she'd seen enough."

"Yeah, well, that was Lily," he mutters quietly, busying himself with his tie. "I wouldn't do that around you."

Robin opens her mouth to say something, but instead changes her mind, and they sit silently for a moment. Then she un-pauses her game and begins playing it with renewed determination.

Barney sighs. He watches the screen. "Look, I'm sorry about Shelter Island and… what you saw," he finishes lamely. "I didn't think you were coming, so…"

"You didn't think I was coming… to Ted's wedding?" she asks, confused. "But we talked on the phone right before I left."

"No, that's not—" He shakes his head. "Forget it. I don't even know why I'm apologizing. Barney Stinson does not apologize for having sex. It's part of the Code. A Bro does not apologize for having sex, unless—"

"I get it, Barney," Robin says, somewhat flustered. "No one's asking you to apologize."

He looks at her hard. "Aren't you?"

Robin pauses the game again. "Well—" she looks around. "Well so what if I am?!" she exclaims, throwing the game controller aside. She stands up and marches into the kitchen.

He follows her. "Why should I? If we're such good friends, why the hell does it matter? I've always told you everything anyway. Until recently." Until he'd literally been hit by a bus and woken up to find that she'd messed up everything in his life just by smiling at him, for god's sake.

"It doesn't," Robin responds, practically shouting now. She opens the refrigerator, looks at the contents, and slams it shut again. "It doesn't matter. Just don't expect me to move in with you and enjoy watching you sleep with a bunch of nameless whores you pick up at the hardware store."

Barney stares at her for a second, her hair sticking up every which way and her tank top rumpled from slouching on the sofa, and wants to laugh. "Why, Robin Scherbatsky," he says, a grin creeping up on his mouth. "You sound jealous. You're yelling."

That really infuriates her, he's pleased to see. "I am _not_ jealous, Barney," she insists in a very loud, if not yelling, voice. "I just don't think it would hurt to think of someone besides yourself for once, and yeah, okay, to maybe apologize."

He leans back on the counter behind him, lets out a cocky laugh. "God, it's good to see you this way," he admits. "It's the first time you've really called me out on anything since the night we slept together. So… six months, I guess. It's pretty hot."

She's just gaping at him now, like she's unsure whether to yell some more or get embarrassed.

"Oh, don't stop now," he says, feeling wildly unstable and pretty damn good about it. Like playing Russian roulette and not giving a damn that he might lose. "I feel like we're making progress in our relationship."

Robin takes a deep breath and tries to compose herself. "We… do not have a relationship, Barney," she says through gritted teeth.

He straightens up again and takes a step toward her, so their faces are close, like he's daring her to be the first to run away this time. "Yes," he says lazily, "we do."

"No," Robin says, glaring at him. "We have avoidance and we have evasion. That's what we have."

"Huh-uh," he disagrees, and reaches up to touch her hair. "We have chemistry."

She swats his hand away. "Stop it. I know what you're doing."

"Cracked my code, huh?" he teases, stepping a little closer. "It's still working, I see."

Her eyes dart to the doorway, like she's hoping Ted or Marshall or Lily will return any second, then flicker back to his eyes, and finally his mouth. "You really disgust me," she says.

"I'm sorry," Barney says honestly, and takes her face in his hands. "I'm sorry I slept with anyone but you. Yeah, that's right," he laughs when he sees the shocked look on her face, "I'm breaking the Bro Code for you and apologizing. Only you, Scherbatsky. You're the only one I've ever broken the Code for before. It's starting to become a habit. Damn you." He lets her surprise wash over her for a few moments, until he can't take her confused look anymore, because he knows they both knew one day they'd be back in this place. She _had_ to know. He brushes his nose against hers, and is moving in to kiss her when she speaks.

"I swear to god, Barney, if this is just to prove another point…"

He wants to tell her then, all the things he told Lily, all the things he was so close to telling her the night Lily set them up on that disastrous dinner date, but the words sound too stupid in his head. So instead he just kisses her, again and again, until she's clinging to his neck like she's afraid to ever let go again and they both have to come up for air.

"Well, if that _was_ what you were going for, point well taken," Robin murmurs.

"What point is that?"

She looks away, evading his eyes. "Don't make me say it."

Barney pulls her chin with his finger until she's looking at him again. "Hey, I made the first move here. The least you can do is say it. Together, we are double the awesome. Go on. Say, _Barney, you were right_."

Robin laughs against his cheek. "Fine. Barney, you were… ugh, I can't say it. Why don't you shut up for a minute." She smiles demurely and he kisses her again. "I'm not going to pretend this didn't happen when tomorrow comes," she warns him a few minutes later, her voice muffled in his neck.

He smiles into her hair. "Good," he says.

"I want to be friends again," she says. "Actual friends. Who don't, you know, do this and then run away for six months until it happens again."

"This is sounding less and less like a traditional friendship, but okay," he nods.

"Hey, you started this." She kisses him just under his ear and feels him suck in his breath.

"Yeah, I think this effectively complicates a traditional friendship," he says, and reciprocates in kind.

When she can think again, Robin gives him a stern look. "I mean it, Barney. I don't want us to run away from each other again. I think we've both done our fair share of avoiding things, wouldn't you say?"

"I'm getting a little tired of it, myself," he agrees. "I'm getting a little tired of a lot of things, actually."

"Don't tell me Barney Stinson is rethinking his lothario ways," she grins.

"How about if I just practice them on you? You can think of it as a research project on the ways of seduction."

Robin cocks her head and pretends to muse it over. "Barney Stinson begins extended study on the art of seduction. That sounds like a promising headline."

"I'm glad to hear it. Because it's going on my blog whether you like it or not."

She doesn't respond except to take hold of his tie and pull him down to kiss her again.


End file.
